


Road Head

by transfixeddream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-17
Updated: 2011-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-19 12:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transfixeddream/pseuds/transfixeddream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's a road head virgin. Dean's fixing that right the fuck <i>now</i>.</p><p>Also posted <a href="http://transfixeddream.livejournal.com/79022.html">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road Head

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at spnkink_meme, requesting road head: one of them's driving, the other's driving him insane.

Dean's hand is a firm weight against his crotch, rubbing incessantly, his palm grinding into Sam's dick. He's rock hard--can't help it, not with Dean working at him through his jeans. Doesn't matter that they're on the road, that _Sam_ is driving the second most important thing in Dean's life, or that this is ten kinds of freaking insanity.

"Dude, this isn't safe." The words are coming out of his mouth, but Sam's still lifting his hips ever so slightly so Dean's hand pushes against his cock harder. It's not like he can be blamed for it. He's a guy and Dean is just--fucking insufferable.

"We hunt monsters, Sam," Dean says, "somehow, I don't think a little dick play while driving is what you should be worrying about. Now shut the fuck up, I wanna blow you. Show you what you've been missing."

Shit. _That's_ what this is about.

About a week ago, while Dean was being his asshole self, gloating, talking about a girl who loved giving blowjobs, he said, practically _gloated_ , "Pretty much addicted to it, especially when I was driving. But it's not like I was against it, either, man. Who doesn't like getting his dick sucked in the car, am I right?"

"Right," Sam said, squirming slightly in his seat.

Dean looked over, stunned look on his face. "What, you mean to say-- Jess, nobody? Nobody ever worked your gearshift while you were driving?"

"Shut up."

"Dude, it's a--a--a fucking rite of passage! C'mon, you're telling me--" Dean huffed and shook his head. "Christ, I knew you were vanilla, Sammy, but, jeez. No chick, no guy, no nothing? You've never gotten road head? Seriously?"

"It's not a big deal," Sam said. "It just never happened. Quit making it sound like I've never had an orgasm or something."

" _Dude_ ," Dean said, offended. "Till you've gone off while driving? You _haven't_."

Sam had thought Dean had let it drop then. He should've known that he'd never be that lucky.

Now here Dean is, while they're on their way to talk to someone whose husband was found dead in a cemetery, making Sam's dick strain against his jeans and talking about sucking him off. While Sam's _driving_. They're in their FBI suits and everything, his probably already has precome soaked into it, and just-- Fuck.

"Dean, I'm really not sure we should be doing this."

Dean looks up from where his eyes were focused on Sam's crotch. "You telling me you don't want me to blow you?"

"Not while I'm driving!"

"Well it's not exactly road head if you're not driving while I'm sucking you, is it?" Jesus Christ, even now, with his fingers scraping the bulge of Sam's dick, Dean manages to be a smartass. Sam would hit him if he knew they wouldn't both end up dead in the ditch for it.

"Come on," Dean says, sitting back up straight in his seat, his hand pulling away from Sam's crotch. Sam can't help the tight whine that escapes his lips because of it. He shoots Dean a glare, but his brother's just smirking. "What're ya gonna do, Sam? Walk into that lady's house looking like you let a goddamn anaconda in your pants?"

Sam clenches his eyes shut for a second, then groans in frustration because Dean's got him either way. Might as well get some pleasure out of it, right?

"God, fine, Dean. Just. Do it fast, okay? We're about ten minutes away from her house."

"Nine more than I'm gonna need, Sammy."

Sam would berate him for the nickname, and the idea that Sam wouldn't last over a minute, he would. But then both of Dean's hands are at his waist and fiddling with his belt, opening his zipper, pushing his cock out through the slit on his underwear and-- Shit. The cool air barely has time to touch his dick before Dean's hand is wrapping around it and jerking it fast.

"And don't hit any potholes. If I'm gonna die, I'd prefer not going out choking on your dick."

"Can you not be such a--jackass and just--"

"Yeah," Dean says, and suddenly there's no snark there, just intent. Sam swallows and doesn't risk glancing at Dean, his eyes listening for the clink of metal when Dean unbuckles.

Dean lets go of his dick again, switching hands to wrap his left around the base and then he goes down. A car is passing and there's no way the people in it could've missed that, they must know exactly what Dean's about to do, but Sam can't bring himself to care, because Dean's breath is ghosting hot against his cock and Sam feels himself harden impossibly more.

"Don't crash my car," is the last thing Dean says, low with filth, before his lips slide over the head of Sam's cock, hot mouth molding around him.

" _Shit_ , Dean," Sam curses, foot jerking on the gas in surprise. Dean snorts around the mouthful of cock, but Sam chooses to ignore it as Dean slides lower.

And really, Sam's not sure if it's the fact that they're on the road or if Dean's mouth is actually hotter than normal, but he feels like maybe Dean had a point about the whole nine minutes thing. He feels like he could nearly come already. He grips the steering wheel tight and wiggles his hips to get in a better position, loving the little bit more of his dick that dips into Dean's mouth. Sam wonders just how much Dean can take in this sort of position.

He finds out soon enough, because his cock-head hits the back of Dean's throat and that's enough for Dean to back up a little, and for Sam to let out a low groan. What he can't deepthroat from this angle he makes up for by jacking it with a loose fist while his tongue is working the underside of Sam's cock. There's smooth, slick heat all around and Sam has to remind himself to focus on the road and not what Dean's mouth is doing to him.

Dean pulls off and jerks Sam's entire cock with his hand, slicking the whole thing with his spit. His right hand comes up to paw at Sam's balls through his pants. Then his mouth is back on Sam, following his hand down and then up, a slick, dirty slide that Sam can feel deep in his balls. He's not sure about the whole car thing, but this is without a doubt the hottest, filthiest blowjob Dean--anybody--has ever given him.

Dean's making noises; wet, loud sounds as he sucks down Sam's dick, and, just for a second, Sam lets himself look away from the road and down at Dean. He can't see much more than the back of Dean's head bobbing with the motion. In a way he's thankful, because he's pretty sure if he could see Dean's lips, shiny red and spit-slicked all wrapped around his cock, he'd ditch the Impala right the fuck now.

Sam's knuckles are white with strain, his hands have got a death grip on the wheel. His balls are throbbing, strung up tight with the need to orgasm and he's not going to last much longer, not with Dean's mouth wrapped around him, making fucking _hot_ little noises of enjoyment like Sam's dick is like the best thing he's ever tasted. When Dean takes him down quickly, a fast, heavy slide until Sam's nudging at his throat again, Sam can't prolong it any more.

He keeps repeating in his head, _watch the road, watch the cars, keep your eyes open, and--shit, shit--_ "Dammit, Dean, I'm gonna--"

Sam doesn't have time to finish it and it takes all of his effort to keep his eyes on the road before he's coming hard with a groan, shooting hot and fast into Dean's mouth. Dean can't take it all so quickly and Sam feels some leak out over his lips and run down his cock. His underwear--probably his pants, even--are going to be soaked with sweat and spit and come, but he can't focus on that.

Dean sucks him through orgasm, milking him dry as Sam concentrates on driving through it all. Dean then slides off Sam's spent dick and laps up the jizz that escaped from his mouth. He tucks Sam back in carefully, then comes up with an all too satisfied smile.

"So?" he prompts, buckling back up. "How was it?"

"Uh, well." Sam coughs. "You were right, it was pretty awesome."

"Of course I was right. But I'm glad you feel that way, Sammy," Dean says with a smirk. "Cause once we ditch the old lady's house, it's my turn."


End file.
